You Only Live Twice
by Rambling Scribe
Summary: Post 5.5. A memento from her old life brings Ruth some unexpected happiness...


**Disclaimer: Spooks belongs to Kudos and the BBC. The title is borrowed too. :)**

**For the Peas**

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_You only live twice or so it seems,  
One life for yourself and one for your dreams.  
You drift through the years and life seems tame,  
Till one dream appears and love is its name._

'_**You Only Live Twice'**__ - John Barry; Lesley Bricusse _

Ruth huddles further into her coat, grateful for the warmth the thick wool provides. The wind is icy and the salt spray from the water stings her face but they are not reason enough to make her go inside. There is something compelling about being on deck in this weather. It's almost defiance, she thinks; a way of avoiding being crammed into the lounges or the cafeteria with the other passengers. Only the occasional hardy soul passes her, looking for somewhere sheltered to smoke. She stares out across the grey expanse of water and tries to calculate how many miles she has travelled over the last fifteen months. Far more than she ever expected she decides.

She'd managed only a few days in Paris . There were too many happy couples, too many people in love. Next had been Berlin. Two and a half weeks there and then the need again to move on. Madrid had been more successful; a part-time job teaching English had helped fill her days and given her a sense of purpose. The weeks had stretched into months and then Christmas had arrived. Reluctantly, she'd taken up the offer of dinner with Maria, one of her teaching colleagues. It hadn't been an unpleasant experience; Maria's family were kind and welcoming but Ruth had still felt relieved to get back to her neat little apartment and have some time on her own. A grey and drab January had blurred into a grey and drab February and the desire to move on had struck again. Rome had been her next destination but she'd been dogged by a sense of uneasiness. A run-in with an old face from her University days had shredded her nerves and she'd left the next day.

Her fingers curl more tightly around the guard rail; a reflexive action as the ferry pitches a little. She looks down at her hands and smiles. The black leather gloves she's wearing are too big for her but she doesn't care. They are a link to the man she's left behind. He'd pushed them into her coat pocket just after she kissed him. "Because I won't be there to hold your hand," he'd whispered, close to tears.

She's been grateful for them, not just to keep her hands warm, but as a keepsake; a personal item of his that doesn't invite questions. She travels light these days; along with her passport, money and a few other bits and pieces, the gloves are the only other item she regards as indispensable.

The sound of footsteps makes her skin prickle. Someone stops behind her.

"It's freezing out here."

She closes her eyes and clings tightly to the rail. It takes her a few seconds to find her voice. "I know but I prefer it."

"You would." The words are spoken directly into her ear, making her shiver.

She turns around, slowly, and spends a minute or two taking in his appearance. He's wearing a heavy duty, waterproof jacket with the collar turned up. Round his neck is a thick scarf, the free ends of which are tucked into his coat. On his head he's sporting a black knitted hat with _NYC_ embroidered on it. The incongruity of it makes her laugh.

"Don't you like the outfit?" he asks, pretending to be offended at her amusement.

"On the contrary," she replies, smiling widely, "I think the rugged look rather suits you."

"There is a slight problem though," he takes his hands out of his jacket pockets. "No gloves."

"Ah," she replies, "I think I can help you there."

"But then you'll get cold hands," he says, pulling her against him.

"Well, you'll just have to hold them, won't you." Her arms wind round his neck and she stands on tiptoe.

"I think I can manage that," he replies before pressing his lips against hers.

--

Harry is true to his word and grips her hand firmly as they follow the other passengers through the terminal building towards the railway station. The train is packed but it's a relatively short journey. By the time they reach Oakwood Heights, it's snowing.

"I need to stop at the grocery store," Ruth says, tugging a purple woollen hat onto her head. "What are you laughing at?" she asks, a little indignantly.

"Your use of the vernacular," he says, teasingly, "not the hat, which I love."

She pokes her tongue out at him. "Behave or I won't make you any dinner."

He insists on carrying the groceries, and helping her cook. It's awkward to begin with; she's not used to sharing her home with anyone and she finds herself apologising for the small kitchen and the mismatched crockery.

"It could be paper plates and a tent, Ruth, for all I care. The most important thing here is you."

"That's not true. The most important thing is _you_." Embarrassed, she turns away and busies herself with dishing up the food.

The spoon rattles against the plate as he slides his arms around her waist. "You're beautiful when you blush," he whispers, his lips tickling her ear, "even more beautiful."

"Harry!" She wriggles, trying to free herself from his grasp. "Our dinner will get cold."

He eventually lets go of her but only after he's left her breathless from a long, passionate kiss.

They sit and eat their meal, settling into conversation surprisingly easily.

"Why did you leave Europe?" Harry asks, although he thinks he already knows the answer.

Ruth doesn't reply immediately but when she does, her voice is tinged with sadness. "You were right; the Grand Tour is not a trip to do alone."

"Maybe we could pick up where you left off, if you want to?"

She smiles at him. "Yes, I'd like that."

He nods. "Good. New York I understand," he continues, "but why Staten Island?"

She shrugs. "I like it. It's cheaper than Manhattan and the neighbours are friendly but don't ask too many questions."

"You're happy here?"

"I'm a lot happier now you're here."

--

Once they have washed up and tidied everything away, the inevitable question of sleeping arrangements needs to be addressed.

Ruth takes a deep breath. "I-I don't have a spare room and the couch isn't comfortable." She doesn't say any more, there's no need. He understands what she's telling him and he silently follows her into her bedroom.

They stand in the middle of the room, looking at each other.

"I hope you don't snore," she blurts out, her anxiety momentarily getting the upper-hand.

"You'll have to tell me in the morning," he replies, amused, and moves closer to her. She trembles as he takes her into his arms. "Cold?" he asks, "or nervous?"

"Both…sorry." She smiles shyly. "I'm a bit out of practice."

"Me too. But I think between us we should be able to remember what to do."

She laughs and her fingers seem to find their own way to his shirt buttons as his hands skim lightly down her back, making her skin tingle.

He is gentle and considerate; he is everything she expected him to be, and more.

Afterwards, she contentedly dozes, resting her head on his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat is comforting; proof that he really _is_ there with her.

"Warmer now?" Harry questions, drowsily.

"Yes."

"Good." His arms tighten around her. "I've retired," he says, quietly.

Ruth lifts her head and looks at him. "Retired?"

"Yes. Are you angry?"

She props herself up on one elbow and frowns. "Why would I be angry?"

"Because of everything you gave up for me. So I could remain in the Service."

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," she says, dryly. "Well, not good, but the right thing to do."

He studies her, silently. "Fifteen months we've been apart," he finally says.

"Fifteen months, one week and four days, to be precise."

"Ruth." It's an apology, a declaration and a question, all wrapped up in her name.

"I think we've both sacrificed enough," she replies, thoughtfully. "I don't want to be alone any more, Harry."

"Neither do I."

She nuzzles against him. "So, that's decided then."

"Yes, it is," he murmurs, sleepily. "You and me, together. Just like it's always meant to be."

_The End_

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**Thanks for reading :) **


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